


Mini Golf

by chailattemusings



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray forces Joel into a game of mini golf that is both delightful and frustrating. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Mini Golf

Joelay, fluff, 4900 words.

Disclaimer: The golf course was originally inspired by the Peter Pan mini golf actually located in Austin, which I looked up to ensure that Austin did in fact have mini golf courses. I’ve never been there myself, so any similarities or differences are mostly coincidence.

—

Joel stared long and hard at the colorful character in front of the entrance, still not quite believing he’d been duped into this.

The disturbed, creepy smile painted onto the cartoon face made him shudder. It was all well and good to base a mini golf course on fairy tales, and a good business strategy to draw in the younger crowd, but a giant statue of a knight in armor was where Joel drew the line. The wide eyes and bright red lips on the plastic face did nothing to endear him, and his feet twitched with a need to run. Far, far away.

“Looks great, huh?” A hand clapped hard against Joel’s back. He turned with an expression of quiet disdain to Ray, wishing more than ever he hadn’t promised the young man a date to wherever he wanted. Joel expected Ray to ask for a trip to the movies or a nice restaurant when he complained that they didn’t go out enough. Not … this.

“This place is for little kids,” he complained, shuddering again at the knight. Big toothed smiles like the one on the statue were never a thing of comfort. He tried to step back, make a run for the car and never let Ray choose their dates again, but his boyfriend got a hold on his wrist and held Joel firmly in place.

“It says ages four and up,” Ray said with a grin, pointing to the front sign. “I’m up from four, and you’re way up from four, so we’re good.” He tugged Joel’s wrist, inching close to the front building, a large open kiosk, where potential golfers paid and got their equipment. Joel glanced at it, watching families and single parents pull screaming, bubbly children past the gate, the young ones swinging their clubs with abandon. The oldest patrons not accompanied by a parent that he could see were a couple of kids that had to be in middle school, if not younger.

Joel’s idea of the worst date ever was any one where he couldn’t drink.

A place filled with children followed at a close second.

Both was just pure torture.

“No, come on,” Joel groaned. “If I’d know where we were going when you gave me the directions, I never would have driven here.” He pulled at Ray’s grip, lacking the heart to tear away completely and risk offending Ray. “We wouldn’t have left the parking lot.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you.” Ray stood close and wound his fingers through Joel’s, his free hand drifting up to cup his face. They were soft, the kind of fleeting, casual touch Joel hadn’t felt in a while, and he leaned in automatically. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the night and have to drive Ray home with nothing but a disappointed kiss at the door.

But mini golf? Really?

He stared down at Ray, jaw clenched. Ray looked back earnestly, rubbing his fingers against Joel’s cheek. “It’s fun,” he promised. “Geoff’s taken Millie here before, he said she really liked it.”

Ah, so that solved whose fault this really was. Joel made a mental note to bitch at Geoff the rest of the week. “She’s, what, eight?” He quirked an eyebrow, even as he put a hand over Ray’s and kissed the palm. “Come on, we can have more fun drinking beer at home.”

“Maybe _you_ can.” Ray frowned and pulled away. “You said we could go anywhere I wanted.”

“I didn’t think you’d pick a place so stupid,” Joel said, rolling his eyes. Ray thumped his chest lightly with his fist, pouting. Joel smiled apologetically and kissed his forehead. Ray shook him off and tried to keep his displeased look, though it quickly gave when Joel smirked sneakily and kissed his forehead again, wrapping his fingers around Ray’s hips. Dropping his voice to a husky growl, Joel said, “We can go home and spend some quality time together.”

Ray put his hands on Joel’s chest and, much to his surprise, shoved away. “We’ve been sitting at home every night for a month.” He pointed to the front kiosk. “I picked mini golf, we’re going mini golfing.” Without another word on the subject, he grabbed Joel’s wrist again and pulled them to the cashier.

“Aw, Ray, come on!” They passed the statue, painted eyes sending a shiver down Joel’s spine again. Beyond the front gate, more cartoon figures waited, each depicting various mythical creatures and childrens’ stories, surrounded by plastic green grass and shrieking children. Joel could free himself if he truly wanted, but he thought of Ray pouting and his refusal to be drawn in by Joel’s attempt at mild public seduction. So instead of protesting again, he let Ray lead them until they met the woman at the register. Beside her, a framed paper listed the prices for each round. Ray dug in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his wallet. “How much for two adults?”

“Sixty five,” the woman replied with more cheer than could be natural. “Grab a couple clubs and pick your course,” she added as she took the bills from Ray.

Joel opened his mouth to protest, and Ray cut him off with, “I asked to come, I’ll pay.”

The woman slid them a score sheet, decorated profusely with more cartoons. In the top corner was the course logo, a depiction of a fairy suspiciously similar to the trademarked Tinker Bell, next to the name, Fantasy Mini Golf. Joel groaned inwardly at the terrible name as Ray took the paper and the golf pencil the woman handed him and tucked them in his pocket. His hand was taken, gentler than before, and Ray led them around to the backside of the kiosk, where another woman, older and with a warmer smile, had a row of golf clubs laid out, the differing colors on their handles indicating sizes. “My,” she said when the two men stopped in front of her, “We don’t often get such strapping young boys in here.”

Ray smiled sheepishly. “Thanks. How about a couple clubs for us?”

The woman nodded and looked them over more carefully, tilting her head and chuckling at Joel’s height. “Well, for someone like you, I’m not sure our tallest clubs will be convenient.” She tugged a black handled club from the far left of the pile, nudging it toward Joel. “Try this one.”

Joel took it obediently and stood it on the ground, next to his hip. It barely came to the hipbone. The woman pursed her lips, and took another black handled club, slightly longer, and held it out. Joel gave her back the first and tried the second. It sat almost at his waist. “Much better.” The attendant smiled, and sorted through the clubs for Ray. She took one with a red handle for him. Ray measured it, the club at his waist like Joel’s. “There we go!” The woman clapped her hands, pleased, and gestured to a metal basket on the counter, with a number of colored golf balls in it. “Choose your golf ball and have fun.”

“Thanks.” Ray flashed another smile and chose, predictably, a red golf ball, both to match his club and, why else, because he loved the color of red roses. Joel smirked at this, taking a random golf ball and ending up with dark green. Ray took a minute to look at the two courses laid before them, one clearly meant for younger kids, with dozens more cartoon statues, and the other geared toward slightly older patrons. It was a second before Ray took Joel’s hand in his and lead them to the kids’ course.

“Naturally,” Joel huffed under his breath. Ray laughed, releasing him at the first hole and setting his ball down on the tee.

This was the easiest, a straight shot from the tee to the hole over a few yards distance. Joel leaned on his club and worried the golf ball in his hand idly, as Ray prepared himself, tongue darting out to lick his lips while he swung the club a few inches in front of his ball.

After what seemed too long to prepare for such a simple shot, Ray announced, “Fore!” and swung with gusto. The golf ball launched into the air, past the hole and into the bushes just beyond. Joel couldn’t help laughing despite his mood. Ray turned with a smirk, and jogged over to retrieve his golf ball. “Hey, I’m not the only one,” he said, pointing at the bottom of the bush. Near his red one, a couple other golf balls sat, left by unruly kids with parents too lazy to look for them. Ray grabbed his and returned to the tee.

“What, no.” Joel shoved Ray back. “You had your turn, you missed completely.”

“Come on, that was a joke to get you going.” Ray pushed back, moving Joel off the tee and replacing his golf ball. “It’s a mulligan.” He readied his club again, ignoring Joel’s protest, and took a more realistic shot. The ball swerved left and skidded off the raised concrete surrounding the green, stopping just a few inches from the hole. Ray moved to hit it again. The red ball rolled into the hole easily, settling against the plastic cup inside. “Two,” he said victoriously, taking the scorecard and pencil from his pocket.

“Oh no.” Joel quickly nabbed the scorecard from his hands. “That was a three, you took an extra shot.”

“Screw you, it was a mulligan!” Ray reached up to take the paper back, and Joel held it high above his head, grinning. If he couldn’t drink, the least he could do was tease Ray endlessly. “Give it!” Ray demanded, grabbing Joel’s arm to yank his hand back down.

“Not unless you write three in your score box,” Joel said, backing up. Ray followed him, keeping the grip on his arm and pulling the sleeve of Joel’s hoodie down.

“Joel,” Ray whined, a high, pathetic tone that he only used when he thought Joel was being particularly unfair. The noise grated on his ears, and Joel had to resist the urge to cover them, still dangling the scorecard above Ray’s head. “Please,” Ray said in the same tone.

“Ugh, fine.” Joel dropped the card and rubbed his ears, Ray’s voice still ringing in his head. It had to be cheating, the way Ray manipulated him like a puppet on strings. Ray grinned victoriously, no doubt scribbling in a two with the tiny pencil. Joel rolled his eyes and took his spot at the green, if only to hurry the game up and go home.

He hit the golf ball hard, assuming it would go straight to the hole and they could move on. Instead it steered left as Ray’s had, knocking off the raised concrete and swerving past the hole. “Seriously,” Joel muttered, walking up and taking his place behind the ball. He hit it, and frowned when it slid past the hole again and bumped the concrete on the other side.

“Ha, you suck!” Ray jeered beside him, hand ready and waiting to write down Joel’s score.

“Fuck you.” Joel hit the golf ball again, thankful when it went in the hole beside Ray’s. His boyfriend bounced on his heel while he wrote a three into Joel’s box, and practically skipped to pick up his golf ball. Joel followed suit, and they moved to the second hole.

A simple upgrade, hitting around a curved path rather than a straight one. Ray placed his golf ball and prepared to hit again. Joel watched him with quiet boredom, occasionally glancing around them at the children and their parents milling about the course.

What caught his eye was a father, tackling his son and picking him up, the son giggling and father laughing, as he tucked him into his embrace and hugged him hard. Joel peered at Ray, already on his second shot as he tried to get the red ball into the hole. Setting his club and golf ball on the ground, Joel approached Ray nonchalantly, watching as he swung, just about to hit the ball, and wrapped both arms around his torso.

“Whoa, hey—” Ray dropped the club mid swing, flailing in Joel’s grasp as the older man locked his fingers around Ray and nuzzled his face against his neck. “Joel, I was about to ace the hole!”

“I’ll ace _your_ hole.” Joel couldn’t resist a smirk, biting Ray’s shoulder playfully. “This is boring,” he added. “There’s nothing but kids here.”

“Dude, come on.” Ray wiggled free from his grasp, and picked his club back up. “If you’re gonna be sour about this, at least show good sportsmanship and let me putt.” Joel tried to grab Ray again, but he dodged and returned to his golf ball, readying himself to swing. “I’m not doing anything with you if you can’t play the game right,” he said, sticking his tongue out as he took the shot. The golf ball bounced off the concrete and stopped near the hole. Ray went to it and got the ball in, quickly tallying his score. “Your turn,” he said, waiting at the end of the green.

Joel sighed, and picked up his equipment. He shot half heartedly, the golf ball barely making it around the curve in the path. Ray gave him a mock, “Boo.” Joel glared, and shot. The golf ball bounced off the wall and landed in the hole.

“How’s that for a putt?” Joel grinned, reveling in Ray’s pout as he wrote down Joel’s score.

They moved to the third hole, this time with a challenging hill to maneuver. Ray shot par three and Joel, four. This earned more cajoling and laughs from Ray, and Joel responded by kissing him hard. A few other golfers stared before moving on, and Ray sputtered and blushed when Joel let him go. “Dude,” he said, though he was smiling.

“Just congratulating your putt.” Joel waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Ray wasn’t having the distractions. The next time Joel tried to snatch him into a hug, he shoved him away and hurried to retrieve his golf ball from the hole. “Spoil sport,” Joel complained, as he shot and gained yet another poor score.

Ray snickered. “Man, you’re such a talented actor, I guess I figured you’d be great at golf, too,” he teased, scribbling the number on their sheet. “At this rate I’m gonna win easily.” Ray twirled his club in his hands, the hard plastic shining in the sun.

Joel ignored the comment, for all of a second. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

On the fifth hole, Joel tried again to distract Ray, running a hand down his back as he swung. Rather than hurt his shot, he hit the ball harder than intended, and the red sphere shot straight over the two triangular concrete blockades, bouncing straight into a hole in one. “Ha!” Ray cried, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “I’ve got this in the bag.”

Unable to believe his eyes, Joel stared at the hole a moment, before he set up for his own shot. If Ray wanted to play the hard way, he’d play the hard way.

He tried to imitate Ray’s putt, and the green ball knocked on the blockades. It hit the wall and stopped near the hole. One more putt and it was in. Joel pursed his lips when he heard Ray snickering again, retrieving his ball.

The sixth hole involved a water feature, a series of spouts with random shots of water, designed to deter the golf ball. Joel left Ray alone to putt, and he finished in three shots. Joel set himself up, this time aiming more carefully, weighing the possibilities of the different angles. When he decided, he shot, the ball skidding across the tiny spouts without a problem and halting near the hole. “Who says I suck?” Joel said, as he made the second putt and picked up his ball.

“Lucky shot,” Ray said with a dismissive wave. “I’m still gonna kick your butt.”

By the time they made it to hole ten, the loud children and fussing parents hardly bothered Joel. He was too focused on getting every shot right, and when he didn’t, taking it out on Ray with kisses and touches that threw him off his game. Ray flustered like a bird puffing its feathers when he succeeded, an extra shot or two added to his game and slowly evening their scores.

It was the eleventh hole that gave Joel trouble.

A bright green alligator with sparkling white teeth stared them down, its jaw open and waiting for any golf balls to roll on its magenta tongue. The trick was to hit it with enough power to get the golf ball down the tube in the center, which led straight to the hole on the other side of the gator, but not so hard to pass the tube and come out the gator’s tail, which put the golf ball several shots away from the goal. On the green were several of the concrete triangles that deterred any easy path for putting. Ray lined his shot and swung, jumping with glee when he heard his golf ball hit the plastic tube inside the animal and roll down, popping out just next to the hole.

“Skills of the master,” he bragged, tapping his ball in the hole. “Two for me, then. Your turn.”

Joel was already set, and hit his golf ball. It veered right, knocking the alligator’s teeth and rolling back to him. Joel let out a sigh, sure his score would be lost for this hole. They were nearly tied, Ray just a couple points below him. He would have to watch himself on the next few shots.

The second putt went straight in the gators mouth, as he hoped, but did not give him the promising noise of plastic on plastic the balls made when they hit secret tube pathways. Instead, it came out of the tail, stopping when it hit the far wall. Joel’s sigh was louder as he walked around the statue to putt again.

“I’m gonna win,” Ray sang from his spot at the bridge that crossed a stream on the way to the hole twelve. He had the pencil ready to write, prepared to tease Joel yet again.

“Shush,” Joel said, shooting again.

The ball whizzed past the statue toward the hole, and grazed a blockade. The impact forced it to bounce away, hitting another wall and resting a few feet from the hole. Joel tried not to reveal how annoyed he was, as he shot for the fourth time. The ball rolled past the hole again. “Little fucker,” he muttered, keeping his voice low for fear one of the many small children around would hear.

The fifth shot missed again, and Joel grit his teeth. Ray laughed behind him. “You shut up,” he said, putting again.

“I didn’t say anything.” Ray put up his hands defensively, and watched the green ball Joel was quickly considering throwing into the stream miss and hit another blockade. The older man growled, and gave one last shot, which finally landed in the hole. “Geez.” He retrieved the ball and squeezed it harshly.

“Seven,” Ray wrote, enunciating each letter as he wrote, and earned himself a punch in the arm. “Hey, ow!” He rubbed his shoulder and laughed again as Joel stomped over the bridge. “What happened to happy kissy Joel?”

“He left after the fifth shot missed,” Joel said, waiting beside hole twelve for Ray.

“Well, he better not mess me up again,” Ray shot back, putting his red ball on the tee. He paused, taking more time than needed to line the shot, expecting Joel to jump him with another show of distracting affection. When he didn’t, Ray putt, and wound up with a four. Joel readied himself in his wake.

He aimed and hit hard, the ball bouncing off the green and over the sidewalk with the force. “Fucking golf ball!” Joel seethed, picking it up from the grass. Ray glanced around, but no one appeared to have heard him swearing. He touched Joel lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Ray said gently. Joel turned to him, clutching the golf ball tight. “Relax.” Ray squeezed his shoulder, rubbing the muscles. “It’s just a game.”

Joel loosened under his touch, and took a deep breath. “Why’d you pick this place?”

Ray smiled and wrapped his arms around Joel, hugging him. Joel automatically kissed the top of Ray’s head. Ray looked up and met his gaze. “Come on, have some fun. I’ll stop teasing, if it makes you feel better.”

Joel considered that, petting Ray’s back idly, pressing his fingers softly into the skin. Ray hummed his appreciation and buried his face in Joel’s shoulder. “Nah,” he decided, releasing Ray and returning to the tee. “You can brag if you want. I _do_ suck at this.” He winked, and placed his ball for another shot.

With a gentler hit, the golf ball went on the desired trajectory. With a proud score of three when the ball went in the hole, Joel and Ray continued on the course.

Calmer than before, Joel’s playful attitude returned by the time they were at the thirteenth hole and Ray had made his first swing. They played without instance, but when they finished the thirteenth hole and passed some topiary bushes to the fourteenth, Joel made the decision to make up for the points he gained before. He waited until Ray was setting up his golf ball, and leaned over him to grab Ray around the waist.

Ray yelped, struggling in his grasp, and Joel only chuckled as he easily lifted his boyfriend off his feet and swung one arm under his knees, effectively turning the hold into a princess carry. “I’m having fun now,” Joel said, smirking. Ray blushed and struggled in his arms.

During the game, especially when Joel messed up Ray with PDA, people stared at them. Kids asked why two men were hugging and kissing. More than a few parents looked annoyed. Now, as Ray caused a ruckus trying to escape, practically all of the patrons had their eyes on the couple. Some of them smiled, and there was even a camera flash in the distance. This only made Ray struggle harder, giggling now, as he begged to be put down.

Joel kept him that way for a minute, laughing as Ray tried to get away, before finally setting him on his feet. Ray punched him hard in the chest. Joel gasped through the laughs and shoved Ray in retaliation. “I can’t go anywhere with you,” Ray said, preparing once again to take his shot.

Joel said nothing, but ran a hand through Ray’s hair when he putt. His hands sputtered mid stroke, the putt much softer than he wanted, and Ray glared at Joel, though there was a glint in his eyes that told Joel he wasn’t really mad. “Cheater,” was all Ray said as he took the single step he needed to get to his ball, as it hadn’t rolled far, and putt again.

The trick evened their scores by a couple points, though Ray was still far ahead. Joel snickered when a hand on Ray’s hip ruined another putt. Their score evened again by another couple points, Ray still six below Joel and in line to win. If he didn’t play well for the last three holes, Joel would lose and suffer endless comments from Ray about how he could focus through anything.

The last holes were by far the hardest, even on a course designed for kids. The predictable windmill shot was on the sixteenth, in the form of a starfish with mermaids painted on each leg, set on a small hill. Ray stood at the tee for a long time, watching the spinning starfish and judging when he should hit to get the ball over the hill, through the small space between the legs, and straight to the hole. Joel knew he wouldn’t make it and felt no need to tease him, tapping his foot on the ground harder the longer Ray stood there.

“Sometime today,” Joel said, miming checking a nonexistent watch.

“The BrownMan needs time to concentrate on such delicate problems.” Ray eased his club back and forth, stopping just before he hit the golf ball each time, measuring the power behind the swing. When Joel was about to pull him into another hug just to put an end to the nonsense, Ray took his shot, and groaned as the ball hit a leg of the starfish and rolled to the side. He putt again, several more shots landing him in the hole. Ray got his golf ball and moved out of the way for Joel.

Unlike Ray, Joel didn’t take ten minutes to putt. He set the golf ball down, watched the starfish for a few seconds, and swung. Ray’s jaw dropped when the ball passed under the starfish, down the hill the machine was propped on, and into the hole.

“Yes!” Joel smiled and fist pumped the air victoriously. “I don’t care if I lose, that shot was beautiful!” He beamed at Ray before getting his ball, practically strutting.

Ray blew a loud sigh. “I’m still winning,” he said, though he noticed Joel was only four points ahead. A couple more good shots and he would win. They reached the seventeenth hole, an extreme hill with several concrete walls that decorated it like a pinball machine, and Ray worried he might not get bragging rights. His show boating for the entire game would look pathetic if he lost now.

He set up his shot, Joel behind him swinging his club idly. Ray could almost feel the tension in Joel, and he knew the man would try to jump him again. He eyed the hill, and glanced back at Joel, before he made his move.

The older man was on him in a second, pulling Ray into another hug and steering his club away from the golf ball. It rolled a few inches up the green and fell back pathetically. Ray yelled and hit Joel in the arm. “Stop screwing up my shots,” he complained, wiggling in Joel’s grasp. The strength behind Joel’s arms never ceased to amaze him.

“But it’s the only way I’ll win.” Joel moved his hands to Ray’s hips and put his chin over his shoulder. “You’re so amazing at this, after all.”

“Frick— you suck!” Ray kicked at Joel uselessly.

“I know.” Joel laughed at him again, a low rumble that vibrated his chest against Ray’s back. The sound made Ray stop, and turn back to look him in the eyes. Joel met the gaze, the laugh turning to a chuckle as he came down from his mischievous high. “Thanks, Ray.”

“Huh? For what?” Ray leaned into the embrace, his frustration momentarily forgotten.

“For making me come here.” Joel nuzzled his neck. “I haven’t had silly, stupid fun like this in a while.”

Ray blinked, and grinned. “We should do more silly, stupid stuff, then.”

Joel nodded and released him. In a show of good faith, he got Ray’s ball for him from where it sat off the tee and put it where it belonged. “That’s a mulligan,” he said. “Try again.”

With a smile, Ray putt again, the ball hitting a few of the walls and rolling back down. Ray tried again with more force, and the golf ball shot up and over the hill. A few more hits got him in the hole, and Joel tried to same strategy. It took him three tries to get over the hill, and Joel wasn’t nearly as bothered as he should have been.

The eighteenth hole was a challenge to get the ball through what looked like a maze of prop dragons and knights placed half hazardly over the green. Joel gave Ray a small touch on his back before he putt, merely to show love rather than to mess with him. Ray smiled, and hit the golf ball.

The hole on the eighteenth wasn’t a plastic cup like the others, but a tube that took the balls to a separate area where they were gathered by the employees. Ray gave a mock wave as his golf ball vanished, and waited patiently for Joel. He kept track of the number of shots, but Ray didn’t take out the scorecard. When Joel finished, he grabbed his hand, stroking the back idly with his thumb, and said, “Let’s go home, so you can get drunk like you wanted.”

“Sure.” Joel glanced at Ray’s free hand, surprisingly empty, his brow knitting in confusion. “Where’s the scorecard?”

“Eh, I didn’t feel like writing down that last bit,” Ray said with a shrug. “The important part is that you had fun.” He moved closer to Joel and bumped their sides together. “Silly, stupid fun.”

Joel bumped Ray in return, taking his club from him and putting them both on the counter of the front kiosk on their way out. The woman thanked them as they left and made their way to the parking lot. “Yeah,” Joel agreed, digging the car keys from his pocket. “Silly, stupid fun.”


End file.
